


Tick tock

by Whenhopediesyoung



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 'Cus Loki, Brotherly Love, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Breakdown, Minor Frigga/Odin (Marvel), Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Pre-Avengers (2012), Retrospective, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, u know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whenhopediesyoung/pseuds/Whenhopediesyoung
Summary: He was a time bomb. Waiting to explode, to devastate, to obliterate.





	Tick tock

**_one_ **

Loki stared up at Odin, eyes glinting manically (or maybe that was just the tears, making his eyes seem bigger, bluer). Surrouded by destruction, at the edge of a the shattered biofrost he stared up.

Thor saw it first felt a shout build in his chest as his brother's face changed. Maybe he should have been watching Odin but Loki was always difficult to look away from, colors poisonous and proud. His  _brother_ stared up at them (at Odin) surrouned by ruin and it felt like the end of the world. His eyes shut. "No Loki."

_**ten** _

Loki glances over at Thor eyes full of playful miscief, he is his younger brother and he looks to Thor as if he put the Frost giants down himself. Thor puffs out his chest. Loki is the person he is to teach, to impress (to mold Odin says gravely in his mind staring down at him like no task was ever vaster and that's _true_ because he has to do right by Loki it's his _duty_ ). And Thor doesn't know quite yet, that Loki will have a splendour all his own one subter then he will manage.

For now Loki leans in, eyes sparkling, and mutters "What does a real warrior need of long hair." And Thor will agree, loudly, in front of Sif who is new from the south and knows not that long hair is an honor. A privilege she is only allowed to keep for coming to court with it already long and silky. Later it will grow back coarser and earlier then that she will look at the younger prince with murder in her eyes- newly visible from one ill-advised haircut. But for now the two princes have all the time in the World to look at each oher measuring and playful and proud.

_**nine** _

Thor is stifling a yawn in his hand as Loki paces long legged, ungainly, eyes lite with a manic gleam. "He signed the treaty with a false name, Thor. That means the whole ninth age of peace was built on a bluff he reworked his whole World to maintain." Thor does not understand why this is interesting but he knows Loki has been on it (and possibly awake) for three whole days. "Father-" He attempts to began again only to be cut off. "Can you even imagine how many close calls he would have had..." Annoyance pricks at his older brother. Sif had gone around saying he was dead and Thor had half believed it, when he missed history class. It's a rather funny prank in hindsight and he should tell her as much, norms knew Loki wouldn't.

"Have you lost your mind, brother!" Thor finally bellows cutting off his irritating sibling. He wants to be with his friends to be sword fighting and talking to pretty girls, not cooped up next to books older then the Allfather. Bad enough that Odin yelled at him for losing track of Loki like he is some recalcitrant pet. He hasn't been shouted at since the last time Loki had a 'great idea' and resents breaking his streak. His brother stares at him hurt huddling in the shift of his brows, in the slight turn of his mouth. Thor hates when he does that.

Fuming he stalks close. "Father told you to show up to all classes, to sparring, it's like you do not even try." Loki, tries his hands looming, it will- Thor thinks privately- never suit him. Nothing about his brother is menacing. " Why am I in your classes anyway?" He spits after a moment while his jaw works like he is chewing his initial thoughts to shreds. It's a good question, Loki is younger, slower and weaker then any of Thor's teammates. More then that he doesn't fit in. He might even flouish amongst those who have not already had growth spurts. But Thors knuckles still ach from striking the starters of scathing rumors and his heart still stings from his- their- father's harsh word.

He glowers. "Let's go Loki." And his voice is firm and unyielding- like father's. And Loki, his adoring younger brother, slams his book shut with a scowl.

**_eight_ **

In Frigga's garden Thor nurses bruised knuckles with a scowl. Mere moments before they had been bleeding and his ribs still seep slugishly. Deeper though, bited the bewildered hurt at Loki's actions. He's been stabbed before, yes by Loki yes but this is different. This isn't play and that _hurts_. His mother's face would be unreadable, like Loki's only he can see the tired lines on her face the frazzled hair. Frigga, much like Loki, is almost always composed.

Thor is too busy glaring to wonder at the look in her eyes though. "Why can't I respond to this as if he was Holgun?" In the dim back of his mind he assumes it is because Loki is also a Prince and that because of that they are _different_ , not permitted to hit and yell until everything is okay again. In the deeper part of his mind so far back Thor cannot reach it he persumes it is because Loki is different in a way that was once intelligible bit is slowly, painfully surfacing. And a the way in the ID he is afraid of his brother, of that cold and shrieking thing that flew at him almost an hour ago, honestly deep in his bones afraid.

Loki had been composed, but he'd almost not quite _felt_ something intangible under his brother's skin. Hiding behind his familiar face. He wonders too deep down to realize it, if like the other oddities it too will float, obscene and skeletal to the surface.

Frigga looks at him sadly a gentle hand on his head and Thor swallows back tears heavy in his throat, at how easy to reach she is compared to Loki. "I love your brother and... shush." She cuts off his hasty injection that he does to. "I know that this can be hard to hear but Loki is not Holgun and you need to give him his space." It was just a dumb argument, Thor wants to say. Everyone else can deal with things the way Holgun does why not Loki? He wants to say but his mother is wearing her queen face so he just nods.

Hours later, he will stand outside the hall of his parent's room listen to her shout at Odin. To him scream back and Loki will slip thin as a branch and as frail between him and the door. Will tremble like a leaf and look at Thor with wide blue eyes and ask "Are they going to send me away?" And Thor will know by they he means Odin will look at his teary eyes,  he has to lean down to do it, and resting heavy hands on Loki's thin shoulders say, "I will not let them." Looking intently into his eyes. His ribs will ach and he will bear it with grim pride. Loki's a warrior, father. He will plan to say, just look. And though his father will not ask not give him the chance to say as much mother will look proud.

**_seven_ **

" _I'm just as good as you._ " Loki snarls at him voice cracking with the changes. Thor laughs uproariously, all his friends along with him and Loki's green eyes glow with hatred.

**_six_ **

"I'm busy Thor." Loki snaps, impatiently surrounded by books. One hand drips green magic which glows brighter when Thor hauls him up laughing, and bundles him off heedless to protests. They come back laughing, covered with blood and victory to familiar golden halls. Heimdall nods respectfully to both of them.as they tromp through.

Father fixes Loki with a stern look voice steady and entirely too loud when he asks, "And your other triumphs Loki?" As if the younger child had not finished regaling the entire hall with both their joint succsses and his own. The table yawns under meat hunted by Loki dispatched by his special knives (blessed by the AllFather), and Thor knows it's unfair. As he watches Loki's spine straightens and he fixes the AllFather with an unyielding stare.

He barely gets a sentence about magic out (briming with backhanded comments about brute strength) before father throws him out of the banquet hall.

Later with a plate of food and a confident attitude taught to him by Loki Thor sneaks into the first of his brother's rooms. He can hear Odin's voice tight with rage that has Thor cringing and undoubtedl has Loki looking rigid and regal. "You have to do better Loki." "Better then Thor?" His voice is nasty scraping like a scaple against bone. "I'd hate to take attention away from your golden son." Hurt takes Thor by surprise. He'd thought they had fun, had been enjoying eachother's company. Odin's reply is too low to make out but the unyielding tone is unmistakable. "WHY!" Loki screams voice taking up all the space in the room, sucking out all the air. "Because otherwise you are a fool's mistake!" Odin bellows back.

The next morning Loki looks at Thor with red rimmed eyes and holds his book in a death grip. "Just go." And Thor lost for words as he is so often, trudges out. It's a month before the speak again. Odin's word stain their companionable silence ugly, so Thor talks more and more and more.

**_five_ **

Loki weeps on his mother's shoulder. She would hold him but his shoulders are covered in cuts his bony ribs each traced with red wounds. She wants to hold him. She wishes she sent him away young, when he was still small enough to not remember this to never know the pain of being different. Frigga could not find the strength then and it would only do more harm now. So she tells herself as he curls in and digs pale clever fingers- knife throwers fingers- into the scars.

Frigga has given him every part of her she can but it's not enough. As Sif shows no one fights like she was taught anymore. They all suit their styles to mimic Thor, her bright kind son, regardless of whether or not it suits them.  She cannot teach Loki to pretend to be Thor all the way to his death. And Loki is much too attached to games of pretend anyway.

When young, so long ago her children cannot picture it, she was given to Odin with nothing of her own. The fine clothes on her back were to entice, to prevent a renegade on her deal. The mountain of gold beside her, red like blood, was a downery. Her hair was held up by her grandmother' combs, made from silver that had melted- according to legend- when the war Lord was born. She looked, Odin told her, radiant in her hate. Nothing had been hidden from his eye. Except for one coin stolen from her bridal price tucked under her tongue. She told herself it tasted like blood but in reality it was only red metal. Beside Odin she would learn what blood tasted like, when it was so abundant it dampened the very air. Could drown someone by breathing carelssly.

She had been right about one thing. If only because she made it so. The coin tasted like hate. Like her first meeting with her husband before she grew to love him. Like those silent baths when she rung a clean cloth over his wounds and wished she caused them. When she slipped it back into her mouth when his oldest child was locked away. On his orders, always his orders. The coin was now long gone. Left perhaps on a battle field when she kissed him in relief. Not the first time obviously for she like Loki hung on to what they thought they might need. No maybe on a battle field or snuck in the hands of maid who would give it a better life by spending it to get herself a better one. She would like that.

Though gone as she watched her whimpering son, while struggling to not ask why to not be furious with him, she could taste the heavy metal on her tongue. Could feel the heavy runes on her tongue. When he looked at her, not with heartbreak but with yawning desperation. "Why am I not enough?" She felt not sorrow but deep equally immense fear...and anger. Looking him with sympathy, because she was the first liar and by the norns she would not hurt her son, she replied  "You are not at fault." And felt her mouth go leaden with fury.

She had taught her son how to hide feelings. How to swim to the top of waves of emotion strong enough to strike one down. How to breath through hate and hurt and focus inside of a mind spinning and threatening to spill over. But she could not teach him to hate until the object seemed a dead ragged thing. That was hers alone.

_**four** _

Loki dodged his mother's spies easily. She was worried he knew but magic was singing in his blood and he almost fidgeted the other day. Clearly he was overdue a break. Slipping into the library unnoticed was comically easy. Though he had almost every actual original book hidden in his room he needed to reference one of the ones he hadn't replaced. His mouth twitched at the golden stars on a few sparce spines. Warnings amongst the librarians that Loki had left a trick book. Because they knew Loki would never give up his prizes the only thing they could do was put in place a discrete warning system and hope Odin wasn't going to try to read it soon.

Most of his tricks were untriggered, but he could see some good ones had gone off. Animal transformation, could of glitter, talking horse head. Obviously they had been using his absence to check for traps in relative peace. Loki wondered how many newcomers he had driven off, and how long it would take to wrest total control of the shelves.He nodded to Sigyn the head librarian's daughter, but didn't give her away for sneaking another practice weapon in. She cleaned up after herself, unlike Thor, and they were almost friends.

Heaving a sign of relief, Loki slid into his designated 'alone' shelf. It would take Thor himself to dislodge him, and he didn't know where it was. The book, unsurprisingly was waiting for him. Loki had spent a few hundred years setting up the spells around this place, they knew what he wanted almost before he did. Settling back he opened the book near it's end scanning for secret roads. Written in red was a warning: Rips World fabric, do not use.

"Simple if inelegant." He mutters softly, editing. It would be a stimulating process for his restless mind, not to be preformed. Only... once it's done its safe, and he's never even dreamed of something so beatiful. It makes Asgard with its noise and crowd, disregard and scorn, unbearable. He can't sleep there but sleep isn't really a requirement, not for months yet. And he has so much to _learn_. His eyes gleam, hungry in a way he has learned to hide even from mother.

**_Three_ **

He warns and warns and warns, only to be laughed at disregarded and finally blamed. Lyesmith they call him and he learns not to scream back. Not to tell Thor their father is acting unjust, not to tell anyone anything. It's embarrassing simple to slip away, like smoke or shadows with Thor's bright light pushing him aside. He tries doing wrong and good, nothing and everything and It. Just. Doesn't. Work.

Thor laughs at jokes at his expense. Slaps his broad hand against his back harder and harder each time. As if he agrees with his father that he needs toughening up. It had started as an experiment this slipping away. A need to see the raw and ugly that had followed him all his life, raised him. But even as it becomes clearer and clear. That he is unwanted, unneeded, maybe even unloved, he still follows Thor. Some masochistic part still looks for his brother's approval. All it makes him is a bigger embarrassment.

Slowly, so slowly he cannot see it at first Loki began to despair. He would like to say it turns to hate slowly, that he fought it, but he didn't. Bitterness suits him. Unlike misery it does not drag him down. A small brittle ball in his chest is infinity lighter then a leaden ball and it is so easy to cut apart people. Silvertongue they call him, and midguard heard it but mistakes it's source. Not silver as in charming but silver like his knives. And no one ever noticed he stopped using the ones Odin gave to him.

No one notices his changes at all. The bitter fragile light in his eyes. The accusion he hangs about himself like a bloody pelt. The cruelest tricks, and the gradual disappearances of his laughter. Or where they rapid? He couldn't say had been watching the changes from a careful distance when they occured. It almost feels like something other has taken over, something older and bitter. Or maybe he is finally growing up. He will have to leave Thor behind if so, no one grown has a monster slayer on call. He's not sure he can. So he smiles composed and small and ignores the stares. Like daggers, like dead things.

**_two_ **

Loki laughs and laughs and laughs, or maybe screams it's hard to tell, has been for a while now. And his skin is blue and ridged, monsterous. How didn't he know. How could he have been so blind. But he can fix this he can all he needs to do is choose Odin, is make him proud once, he can do it, for him.

**_one_ **

"No Loki." He falls.

 


End file.
